


The Beast of Boneless Chicken

by GrendelGrowls



Series: Male Warframe Belly Stuffing [3]
Category: Warframe
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Burps, Feeding, Gen, Hand Feeding, Overeating, Stuffing, belly stuffing, stuffed belly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28821624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrendelGrowls/pseuds/GrendelGrowls
Summary: A young Orokin gives Ordan the perfect idea to ruin an Orokin meet-and-greet by literally eating away some of their wealth.
Series: Male Warframe Belly Stuffing [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081415
Kudos: 18





	The Beast of Boneless Chicken

**Author's Note:**

> This was a little thing I wrote to break my post-Christmas writer's block, and I have at least six other half-finished fics that still need to be completed, so consider this just a way to ease myself back into it.
> 
> Also, my Twitter mutuals have converted me to the Ordan Lovers Cult and I don't regret it in the slightest >:]

If there was one thing Ordan hated more than the average Orokin, it was being forced to attend their meet-and-greets. They were as excessive as they were pointless, and his invitations were often a way to show off rather than making any attempt to see him as a living being: those who could get "the legendary Beast of Bones" to attend their party were going to earn a few shiny golden stars within their respective social circles, but once he arrived his presence was more ornamental than anything else.

That being said, when the right Orokin handed you an envelope stamped in golden wax, you _didn't_ refuse their invitation. They always got their way, and anything to the contrary was met with fierce, violent resistance.

As the waiters and waitresses - young men and women who just wanted to rest - carried around plates and dishes piled high with foods from all across the Origin System, he could do little but sit there and wait. Nobody, not even the other guests around him, cared that he was there. If he ever made eye contact with another person, it would be broken off in a second or two and forgotten about.

Well, that wasn't completely true. There _was_ one who cared.

Ever since he had arrived, the man next to him - a slim, tired looking noble who seemed just as uncomfortable as Ordan - had been keeping an eye on him. When the mercenary moved to grab his drink or take another tiny bite of the awfully-heavy meal, the other man's eye would flick over to watch, retreating back to his own plate the moment their gazes met. At first, Karris assumed that it was just some sort of agent keeping tabs on him, but the reality had become clear fairly soon.

More specifically, when the man had leaned into him and whispered "I bet you can't out-eat them." The way that he stammered and stumbled over his words, eyes pointed straight at the table, made it very obvious that the request wasn't something he felt proud about.

"What?"

"You know, eating... more than them."

"Why would I?"

The two remained hushed, both equally concerned that they would be overheard. Orokin parties were as much about the experience as they were about gathering material to blackmail and backstab.

"I... never mind." Retreating back to his own chair properly, the man's cheeks grew slightly pink as he downed a large part of his drink in one go, letting the intoxicant within get to work. As soon as half the glass was empty, he placed it back down and folded his arms in an awkward manner. "It was just a dumb idea."

It was a bizarre request, yet... one that felt oddly appealing. Ordan wanted nothing more than to leap up on the table and tear the heads off any of the snooty nobles that were dining around him, but that would lead to instant execution by the Dax standing guard. However, if he was able to continue obeying the rules while also being disruptive...

"It's a good idea."

"Huh?"

Cracking a half-legitimate smile, he poked the young Orokin's arm. "It's not a bad idea. It might show them up a little bit."

"You're actually going to do it?!"

It took Ordan a moment to actually decide if he wanted to go ahead with it, now that he was actually looking at the stack of foodstuffs on his plate, but the chance to annoy some of his oh-so-fancy Orokin 'superiors' was far too good to pass up. "They're paying for the food and it'll annoy the hell out of them, so I might as well."

Nobody at the table - other than the red-faced young noble beside him - paid him any mind as he grabbed a random handful from his plate, forgoing cutlery entirely. The food here was more of a formality, an excuse to get the fat-headed and fat-gutted fools of the ruling class together, but he was still surprised at how perfect his first bite of the mixed meats tasted as they hit his tongue. It was like an explosion of endorphins, each one gently brushing on the parts of his brain that controlled basic impulses.

The warrior didn’t even notice the young man next to him gingerly replacing what had just left his plate, face red with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. Even if he had, he may not have cared. Whoever’s pockets were being emptied to pay for it, he was more than happy to help things along.

Everything was amazing in both taste and texture, and before long, a distinct sensation of satisfaction had started to form above his waist. It was a signal that he wasn’t full, but could easily stop here and be fine: a signal that he promptly ignored, tearing into some kind of meat-filled bun with a pretentious and expensive name that he had never cared to learn. A couple of heads had glanced in his direction for a moment or two, but he would have to try harder to _reaaaally_ annoy them.

The problem with Orokin food, even for Ordan, was the nutritional content. Every bun he ate, every slice of processed meat he sampled, it was all designed to be as superficial as the Orokin themselves. One could eat an entire meal and be physically full, but the body still craved more to pee itself running: something he was beginning to experience himself.

After a few more of the smaller snacks, he could already feel a definite heat in his gut, and found himself slouching back to find a more comfortable spot. Even so, he kept going, tearing through his plate like a starving animal and ignoring the young man’s efforts to keep him re-stocked.

The meal was a glorious one: everything from exotic plant-based treats to stuffed animals from the System’s four corners. As he was wolfing down his third Condroc leg of the evening, though, he noticed a few heads turning in his direction. They clearly weren’t happy to be near the Beast of Bones, but they would just have to suck it up and keep smiling, because he wasn’t going anywhere.

One tried a passive-aggressive “Enjoying the food, Karras?” only to shrink away at the warrior’s death glare. He loved this - it was rare to be in a situation where they couldn’t even _complain_ about your existence without compromising their own standing.

After a few more mouthfuls of the best their cooks could offer, Ordan felt a slight fullness below his chest and instinctively reached down to check with his hand. Even with his muscular build, there was obviously only so much room for his stomach to stretch until his body started stretching with it.

”A-are you alright, mister Or... Karris?” The young man next to him had completely lost interest in his own food now, and was turned ninety degrees to watch Ordan’s work. Judging by the redness of his cheeks, it was more than mere surprise that kept him interested.

A bubble of air formed in Ordan’s stomach as he tried to speak, and he got as far as “I think-“ before a substantial belch overtook his words. Every face in the room snapped to watch him, but the moment it died down, he decided to carry on and piss them off even further.

With every mouthful of meat and gulp of his drink, the warrior’s gut grew tighter. It was a slow process, one that he didn't notice at first, but his body eventually hit a point where the slight stretching had become all too apparent. He was halfway through drinking down another glass of their fancy non-alcoholic wine when another half-moan-half-burp almost escaped from his throat, and he leant back into his chair, nursing his bloated middle with one hand.

Maybe it wouldn't be obvious to the others, but it was _very_ obvious to _him_. The pressure inside him and the way his gut gently lose and fell with every breath made it harder to think clearly, with his brain firing off mental requests to stop and let his stomach rest. Had he been a weaker man, maybe he would have whimpered and excused himself, but this was the perfect chance to waste more Orokin money.

Ordan would need help, though.

Tapping the young man to his left and breaking the man out of his strange trance, he stifled another burp with his fist. "Hey, you."

"Uh... mister Karris?"

Deciding to be a bit more direct, he took the Orokin's hand and placed it on the purring surface of his distended middle, which was only barely concealed underneath his formal clothes. "Calm this down for me."

The Beast of Bones didn't need to say please, and almost as soon as he had asked, the man's shaky hands began to gently work away at Ordan's gut. Not wanting to waste time, he continued with his zealous attempt to out-eat the Orokin nobles, stuffing chunk after chunk of the large banquet into his mouth with no need to slow down. With the pretence of being a good guest gone, he was free to be more open about what he was actually doing, and allowed himself to moan in delight whenever a particularly flavourful bite passed his taste buds.

His shirt had begun to grow too tight for his liking, riding up his stomach as it gradually began to bloat from the food crammed inside it. It was like he could feel the over-filled organ having to stretch out as more was packed inside, occasionally allowing the pressure to drop by getting some of the extra gas clear of his throat.

Every kneading movement of the slim hands on his gut’s surface felt amazing, and it was oddly encouraging to be pampered in such a way. It didn’t take long before Ordan was forced to drop his fancy Orokin cutlery back on the plate and slump against the chair’s backrest, his insides starting to protest at what he had done to them.

“Ugh... this was a bad idea...”

Karras glanced at the ‘assistant’ who was tending to his stomach and noticed a strange sparkle in the man’s eye. That, and a noticeable deformation in the lower half of his robe, which was quickly hidden way by a crossed knee. He knew that the Orokin all had their _interests_ , but this was a new one for him.

He also wasn’t _entirely_ against leaning into it. It was better than trying to enjoy the formal dinner itself.

After a few moments to think, Ordan raised the front of his shirt over the curve of his new potbelly - the material was able to rest atop his gut without falling back down. As he had predicted, the other man’s face went white, then scarlet, then buried in his own palms.

”I don’t think I can eat any more.”

The other man said nothing.

”But if somebody was to help me eat...”

The man looked at Ordan, and the merc nodded towards the table and flashed a sly grin.

An awkward few seconds passed before either of them knew what to do, but soon, the young Orokin had started to gather more opulent dishes from the middle of the table. Each one was passed to Ordan’s mouth and wolfed widows in moments, leaving his hands free to try and calm his own stomach as it continued to complain. The aches had started, but they were dull aches, not ones worthy of his attention just yet.

There was no hiding it now, not with a display like this. Every Orokin head had turned to watch them, most out of disgust, but he didn't bother himself with it. The very _idea_ that he could make an entire group of them uncomfortable like this while also costing them money was well worth the awkwardness.

With every additional bite, his middle continued to gently swell, reaching a much more pronounced shape that would probably be visible even beneath this short. With his body dedicating itself towards digestion, there was much less energy for him to stay awake, and Ordan gradually began to slow down. What had started as a flat and tones body was now obviously suffering the effects of the large meal, with every mouthful gradually compounding on the last to put even more tension on his stomach walls.

The Orokin, whose name he still didn't know and didn't care to know, had clearly noticed, and was hesitant about trying to feed him any more. A stern look and a point to his mouth renewed the other man's attention, and with his own over-packed plate finally clear, Ordan started work on another.

Another soft belch made its way out of his mouth between helpings of freshly-grilled exotic meats, relieving some of the pressure so that it could be immediately replaced by yet more food. His stomach was starting to protest at the obscene stretching it had been forced to do, which left his midsection more potbelly than muscle. Even so, he didn't stop the young Orokin, instead using his own hands to try and calm his angry gut as best he could.

One by one, the others at the table seemed to accept that Ordan was willing to spite them like this, and did their best to ignore the pair. With one hand, he moved to undo the simple button on the formal trousers that his gut was now straining against, sighing in relief as it popped open and his stomach was able to expand freely. It did little to help his growing discomfort, and after a few more mouthfuls of food and sips of his drink, he was forced to put one hand up before the Orokin passed him another morsel.

"No... full..."

Although he tried to restrain himself again, he couldn't stop another belch from leaving his body, followed by a pained moan as his body finally adjusted to the abuse that he had put it through. An ache formed at the very forefront of his stomach, the swollen abdomen fighting back against the amount of food packed inside it.

To his credit, the Orokin man immediately put down the plate and began to knead the surface of Ordan's stomach, using both hands to ease the pain. It wasn't doing very much, but it was better than nothing considering the Warrior's condition. He moved to stand, knowing that there was no more reason to be present at the table, but his groaning stomach was far too unstable for such a movement. 

Ignoring the passive-aggressive glances of the many nobles surrounding him, Ordan beckoned for the smaller man to help him stand, and was finally able to get on his feet after a good seven seconds of struggling with his altered center of gravity.

The young Orokin was sweating bullets as he wrapped Ordan's arm around his shoulders, his eyes still drifting down to the mercenary's gut now and again. "Are you... alright, mister Karras, sir?"

After delivering a quick snarl towards anybody in the room who was still looking at him, he turned his attention towards the other man, staying hunched over slightly to avoid stretching his stomach out even further as he stood. "Too full, need rest."

He almost stumbled over the smaller man as he was led out of the room, one hand gently massaging the taut and sore surface of his stomach as he moved. Every step made the food and drink inside squish around as it fought for space, unable to really do much until the digestion process started.

Ordan still didn't know the other man's name, but he was in no position to ask right now. The only thing he needed was a hot bath to soothe his churning belly and a long, long sleep.


End file.
